New York Comic Con is coming–and I’m going! I’ve picked panels; I’ve artist alley-ooh-ed and ah-ed–and I’ve mapped it all out like a cross-eyed pirate. I’ve emptied out the ol’ backpack and have filled it back up again with enough Pro Bars to fuel a contingent of hardcore cosplayers. I am convinced that this’ll be the best Con ever!

My optimism is not unfounded: I’ve conspired with some art reps for some pre-Con commissions from a few talented fellas: Ian Bertram (Allen Ginsberg circa the acid-fueled “Wales Visitation”), Leandro Fernandez (Adrian Chase/Vigilante), and Martin Morazzo (The Ice Cream Man serving up ice cream cones to my Goosebumps-loving daughters). Can’t wait to see what they come up with!

Before the Con, however, we’ve got a notable NCBD. So here’s my weekly FYI:

Dead Rabbit #1 (Image)

Die! Die! Die! #3 (Image)

Paper Girls #25 (Image)

Redlands #7 (Image): I&N Demand NYCC memory: Back in 2013, I had the pleasure of meeting Vanesa Del Rey, mostly by accident. See: I was on the hunt for some Six-Gun Gorilla OA from Jeff Stokely–which I scored, by the way–and VDR just so happened to be seated at an adjacent table. At the time, I knew her only from Hit, which was, at the time, a hit in its own right, and I told her as much. VDR was very friendly; in fact, she asked about my I&N shirt–even asked for a card, which I, regrettably, did not have. (I’ll be cardless this time around, too. ScottNerd–where lessons go to die.) She was kind enough to allow me to take a picture, which we featured in our NYCC 2013 follow-up. And, wouldn’t you know, I’ve been a fan ever since! I enjoyed the hell out of the first arc of Redlands–featuring strong women born of strong writing (a real breath of [Jordie] Bellaire, the otherwise ubiquitous colorist) and beautiful, lush, exceedingly sexy art from VDR–and am very much looking forward to this one.

Border Town #2 (DC/Vertigo): I&N Demand Well, I had no idea I’d like #1 as much as I did. Had to shout it out in a 22 I&N 22, which I’ll share here because it says a lot: Bloody moving—a monster of racial relevance; tears down walls, cranks up the stereotypes to once upon a helluva good time. Arriba! You know what that means: expectations for #2 are muy alto–muy, muyalto.

A Walk Through Hell #5 (AfterShock): I&N Demand Re: the cover: An Hello to Arms–obviously a Prequel to Hemingway’s classic to-hell-and-back wartime love novel. Or maybe it’s just a disarming cover for another horrifying stretch of Ennis and Sudzuka’s A Walk Through Hell. I’m going with the latter ladder–of fucking arms. (Apologies available on a first-come, first-served basis.)

Big week of books, boys and girls! I had trouble not wielding the I&N Demand designation this time around. I ain’t complaining; but I am cutting this intro short so I can get to the good stuff. To it.

Days of Hate #8 (Image): I&N Demand #7 was brooding, heavy for the wait of it all, and, in that, emotionally affecting enough–the result of the dramatic ménage à trois of Aleš Kot, Danijel Žeželj, and Jordie Bellaire–to demand immediately a 22 I&N 22 from me, awash in a sympathetic afterglow. I want to feel that again. And again.

Evolution #10 (Image)

Ice Cream Man #7 (Image)

Eleven to Eternity #11 (Image)

Skyward #6 (Image): I&N Demand So thrown by the sacrifice, I 22 I&N 22’d #5, another high-flying, peril-full issue from Joe Henderson, Lee Garbett, Antonio Fabela, and Simon Bowland. Now, it’s time to see if Willa–her father’s journal in her hands and a heavy, heavy mandate in her heart–will follow through, if she will do what she needs to do–which is to, you know, fix.the.world. #staygrounded

Black Hammer: Age of Doom #5 (Dark Horse): I&N Demand Re: #4: Jeff Lemire, Dean Ormston, and Dave Stewart serve up some seriously strong women with a lop-sided sack of ineffectual men as garnish. Yeah, the bros are silly sideshows, supplementing the driving feminaction with neutered passivity. But, in the end, the fantasy world in which they’ve been living is a meticulously-plotted perversion of reality, molded by one of their own: it’s, ironically, a phallic safe space hurtling through the heavens. But now that the heroes are woke, that safe space is going to fill up mighty fast–if not with fists, certainly with equally as menacing questions that could blow the ship out of the fucking sky. Man, I can’t wait for answers!

Ether: The Copper Golems #5 (Dark Horse): I&N Demand I knew the end was coming, but that knowledge hasn’t made any softer the blow of the prospect of turning the final page of this inspired, imaginative, and innovative arc of the magical Ether mythos. David Rubín’s ever-moving map of Matt Kindt’s one-of-a-kind mind has led to this; and I, for one, will eagerly yet apprehensively turn every page, and with the last, reflecting, will find satisfaction in knowing that, in having read Ether, I’ve stood atop the comic book equivalent of Everest.

Batman #55 (DC): I&N Demand Breaking News Alert: President Trump has ordered the release of FISA documents, text messages, notes, and other goodies related to the prostate-tickling probe into Russian collusion. And, wouldn’t you know, on the heels of that order, here comes Batman #55, featuring the undeniably Russian KGBeast. Coincidence? I think so. Still, Tom King and Tony S. Daniel better be ready for a tweetstorm–one from a rapidly moving front of loyal readers celebrating what’ll probably be another undeniably brilliant issue of Batman.

Batman: Damned #1 (DC)

Mister Miracle #11 (DC): I&N Demand Mister Miracle is an emotional inter-dimensional teleportation device, and, boy, am I enjoying the ride–in spite of/especially because of the hitting so close to home with the thoughtfully-wrought family dynamic, fraught with effectually infinite frustration and nod-off-and-you’ll-miss-’em microscopic moments of joy. Toss in the, you know, high stakes of the Highfather’s suicidal stratagem, and, well, it is what it is, mister: another goddamned miracle from Tom King and Mitch Gerads. Re: #11: This cover offers up a uneasy inevitability. I’m already feeling it weighing down my arms, my legs–and I’m not even holding the damn thing. Ugh. That menacing sentence: “Darkseid is.” I mean, I know what he can be, and that’s freaking me the fuck out. But, you know–you know what? I am. I am, too. And I know what I am: I am scared. Yeah. I’m not sure I want to read this.

Pearl #2 (DC/Jinxworld)

The Wild Storm #17 (DC)

The Amazing Spider-Man Annual #1 (Marvel)

The Immortal Hulk #6 (Marvel)

Venom #6 (Marvel)

Black Badge #2 (BOOM!): I&N Demand [Due to a quirk in my reading/writing schedule, I wrote a review for BB #1 back in my I&N Store post for books out on 8/8. I’m reprinting it here because it reflects well my initial and my enduring reaction to the superlative first issue.]

I’m kind of a Kindt junkie, and, logically, following with more figurative language, Black Badge is my next fix–oh, and how satisfying #1 was. Exploiting the same chemical formula that worked so well in the intoxicatingly agitative Grass Kings–Kindt+Jenkins^2=masterfully mature storytelling and a well-deserved Eisner nom–Black Badge bursts onto the scene like a nostalgia bomb with a perfectly-paced adventure that calls to mind the ubiquitous kidventure movies of the ’80s (Stand by Me and The Explorers were two of my faves) and mirrors those games my friends and I used to play on the farm, as we’d battle imaginary Nazis or Russians a la Where Eagles Dare or Red Dawn. These kids, however, aren’t playing a game–and neither is the creative team: this is some dark stuff; and like good little scouts, we best be prepared for more. See: “Nobody can do what [they] can do. No one can go where [they] can go.” (Hey! you say? “They”? Doubled for your pleasure, fair reader! OK, you got me: mostly for mine.) For the week [of 8/8], Black Badge #1 is #1 with a bullet drone strike.

Re: anticipating #2, recalling the last page of #1: I’m all-in on the mission. I’m the Fifth Badger headed for the bus. Well, the pre-teen I–drawn out so brilliantly by Kindt and the Jenkinses–am, anyway.

Scott. Escape reader.* Comic book in back pocket, crinkled cover hanging on by a staple. A penchant for mud pies.

My wife and I have gone to a few concerts over the past few months, including Vertical Horizon/Tonic/Gin Blossoms, the always brilliant Richard Thompson (with G. E. Smith), and The Pixies & Weezer. If you’re reading this on Wednesday: tonight, we’re headed out to see Counting Crows & Live (honesty: looking forward to the latter); and on Labor Day weekend–right before I return to work (a sorta cross between a fist pump and a “foiled again”)–we’ve got Judas Priest & Deep Purple (it’s all about the former for me!). And, (big secret: don’t tell) for our anniversary, I’ve scored another go-round with Richard Thompson in November! (Quick math: that’ll be our eighth time with RT! Yeah: we’re fans.) Before we head out to the Live show (see what I did there: shooed away the Crows), hoping against the forecast that lightning, in fact, doesn’t crash, I’ve got to go pick up my comics. Here’s the big list:

Cold Spots #1 (Image): I&N Demand Goddamned Bone Parish was dead-ass intoxicating. Now, even before that hellishly hot piece of horror’s been bagged and boarded, here’s Cold Spots, which will, if history counts for anything, set the shelves alight. See: when it comes to horror comics, Cullen Bunn’s kinda cornered the graveyard, hasn’t he? Fuck yeah, he has. So this one’s a no-brainer. And a no-body-er. You know, cuz of the ghosts.

Days of Hate #7 (Image): I&N Demand Remembering #6: Man, when Aleš Kot gets all poetic and shit, he emerges all politic and shit, and the world spins a bit differently–it slows down to let the images take shape and, as they do, they reshape us. Kot reshapes us. He -isms all over us. The son of a bitch owns us from front to back–even if our politics are polar enemies. Yes: he’s that good–he’s more, wielding like a poet Danijel Žeželj’s beautifully brooding artwork (those blacks, tho) and Jordie Bellaire’s typically bold palette; and the layouts–the fucking layouts, like visual meth, moving, moving apace–particularly the oh-so-familiar nine-panel pages that are manipulated to such a colorful end, and, wouldn’t you know, encourage us willing voyeurs, cleverly, to watch women as Kot develops at once several crucial relationships (including the one between him and us), and does so organically, oh-so poetically. Yeah, there’s so much to love about Days of Hate–because there’s so much love in Days of Hate.

Die! Die! Die! #2 (Image)

Redneck #14 (Image): I&N Demand Redneck, Redneck, oh, how I offered my throat– twelve times, true!–only to be left wanting, even on the odd but teased to plump carotids; however, it took till thirteen, didn’t it, to break the skin–for Redneck to claim me as its very own, with a neck as red as a good ol’ vampire’s wet dream. (I just slid said chapter from its bag, to revisit, and, damn, got a rush–memories of the first time rhythmically kicking my carotids–boom, boom, boom…) I loved that issue so much, that I celebrated it with a 22 I&N 22. (Love how that one turned out!) What I’m trying to say, if it isn’t clear, is that I’m very much looking forward to fourteen–and am hoping that Cates, Estherren, and Cunniffe kill it–and me–again.

Royal City #14 (Image)

Black Hammer: Age of Doom #4 (Dark Horse): I&N Demand Jeff Lemire is on fire (pronounced fi-ear, obviously)–again; and this particular inferno–spread to other books I&N Store this week–has at its source the Eisner-award winning accelerant that is Black Hammer, now four issues into the Age of Doom, which has been just as beautiful (thanks to the passively moody pairing of Dean Ormston and Dave Stewart) and engaging–thanks to the gloriously nostalgic nods (many in the knowingly-named “Land of Nod,” for God’s sake!) to which I–like you, I’m sure–look forward. #3 was a terrific trip with some subplots taking odd turns, throwing characters off, throwing us readers off–and Lemire puts words–“Wait. What?” or for the saltier of us an incredulous “What the fuck just happened […]?”–in the mouths of those bound to the pages and of those who hover just above them. In the end, a weird “Uh oh” pretty well sets the stage for all hell to break Lucy–or for Lucy to take her fucking hammer and smash it all to embers. Now, that’s hot.

Action Comics #1002 (DC)

The Amazing Spider-Man #4 (Marvel): I&N Demand I can’t believe I typed it. TheAmazing Effing Spider-Man–I&N Demand. I can’t believe I typed it again! What can I say: it took til #3, but see: Nick Spencer’s caught me in his web of radioactively witty dialogue, which reminded me of being happily trapped by Ant-Man and The Astonishing Ant-Man; and Ryan Ottley’s style is well-spun fun that pops perfectly–thanks to Cliff Rathburn’s sharp inks and Laura Martin’s crisp colors. I’m sure I’m not a clone in this: I’m buying Spencer’s Split Spider angle–I sense a comPeteition coming on!–and the poisonous potential of mixing power and irresponsibility. Come on: that is pretty amazing–and, doubtless, deserves the coveted I&N Demand designation.

I was on a frame vacation–which is a vacation within a vacation, of course–and didn’t have time to flesh out my previews for 8/8’s books. So, for you Images and Nerds completists out there, here’s a quick rundown. This go-round, said rundown will be more re- and less pre- as I’ve read all of our I&N Demand books.

Thanks for your understanding.

The Dead Hand #5 (Image): I&N Demand I’m loving this series. Haven’t heard much buzz about it, but it’s really good. Kyle Higgins is doing great work here, playing with paranoia, with isolation, with existentialism and with an external existential threat, which, at this point, has found its way into Mountain View, a community essentially built upon a cleverly conceived existential threat of its own–one that wears the face of and, more important, particularly as it pertains to the development of the pervasive danger in the book, exhibits the mental and emotional capacity of a child. (Parents: hits pretty close to home, no? Ha! Another fine twist!) Stephen Mooney’s artwork, accentuated by Jordie Bellaire’s colors, helps to stretch the tension from panel to panel, page to page, issue to issue. Sure, the Cold War might be over, but there are bombs still waiting to go off–and a shit ton of them are planted in the pages of TheDead Hand.

Eternal Empire #10 (Image)

Farmhand #2 (Image)

Oblivion Song #6 (Image)

Unnatural #2 (Image)

She Could Fly #2 (Dark Horse/Berger Books): I&N Demand The first issue was a promise; and with #2, Christopher Cantwell, Martin Morazzo, and Miroslav Mrva delivered on it. For one, the book moves at a decapitating pace; yeah, the narrative threads–see, they’re piano wire, and the quick cuts’ll leave your head in your hands. (The cover’s got that covered, yo.) The madness that fuels the frenzy is manifested meticulously, which may seem contradictory in reflection, but instead makes sense–which, considering the nature of the creator-reader relationship, in the end, makes all the sense in this mad, mad, mad, mad world. Cool touch: Luna’s barrettes look like devil horns. You know, once I noticed that, I couldn’t not see it and was like Wow, cool touch. I even showed my wife. She said, “Oh, yeah” and then went back to her phone–on Pinterest or Etsy or Instagram or Match or whatever the hell it is she spends so much time on. She could swipe, that one. But She Could Fly, if it keeps up this level of storytelling, will touch the fucking sun.

Catwoman #2 (DC): I&N Demand Joëlle Jones has brought her sexy lines and lots of leather together to give us the solo Catwoman we knew we needed and have desperately wanted, especially since the Tom King proposed the whole Bat-Cat thing. #1 hit a lot of great notes writing-wise and art-wise. Some of those notes were echoes of Jones’ terrific Lady Killer, which was, in retrospect, the perfect audition for Catwoman. This second issue didn’t scratch the same spots as the first, but Jones whipped up a solid issue nevertheless–particularly in the portrayal of Cat’s angst over the big Bat break up and the development of the mystery surrounding Lady Creel’s plan for Selina; and, again, with the lines and the leather–and the Laura Allred’s luscious colors–all of it justification for my objectification of the femmefeline–it’s damn easy on the eyes.

Sandman Universe #1 (DC/Vertigo)

Superman #2 (DC)

Amazing Spider-Man #3 (Marvel)

Fantastic Four #1 (Marvel): I&N Demand The First Family is back! Well, they’re almost back–and that, kids, is your hook. But could their return be Doom-ed from the start? Can’t wait to see what Dan Slott’s got in store for comicdom’s most indispensable four.

Black Badge #1 (BOOM!): I&N Demand I’m kind of a Kindt junkie, and, logically, following with more figurative language, Black Badge is my next fix–oh, and how satisfying #1 was. Exploiting the same chemical formula that worked so well in the intoxicatingly agitative Grass Kings–Kindt+Jenkins^2=masterfully mature storytelling and a well-deserved Eisner nom–Black Badge bursts onto the scene like a nostalgia bomb with a perfectly-paced adventure that calls to mind the ubiquitous kidventure movies of the ’80s (Stand by Me and The Explorers were two of my faves) and mirrors those games my friends and I used to play on the farm, as we’d battle imaginary Nazis or Russians a la Where Eagles Dare or Red Dawn. These kids, however, aren’t playing a game–and neither is the creative team: this is some dark stuff; and like good little scouts, we best be prepared for more. See: “Nobody can do what [they] can do. No one can go where [they] can go.” (Hey! you say? “They”? Doubled for your pleasure, fair reader! OK, you got me: mostly for mine.) For the week, Black Badge #1 is #1 with a bullet drone strike.

Clankillers #2 (Aftershock)

Hot Lunch Special #1 (Aftershock)

Strangers in Paradise XXV #5 (Abstract Studio): I&N Demand Terry Moore’s return to Paradise has been exhilarating, with familiar faces and events unfolding, particularly around Katchoo, at a breakneck pace. #5 slows things down a bit a lot to offer a history lesson, which is meant to make the mystery lessen a lot a bit, which it does–though not before Moore uses Katchoo–and her big ol’ yawn–to let us know that it’s OK that we got a bit–yeah, a bit–beaten up by Tambi’s walking like an Egyptian through her explanation of the situation that plagues them both. In the end, however, Katchoo faces defeat her feet and realizes that she’s got to change her attitude–and her longitude–if she’s going to get to the truth. Another black and white beauty from Mr. Moore.

Tom King–with help from David Finch, a trio of inkers, and the ubiquitous Jordie Bellaire–did what he can do–did what he does better than anybody else: he crushed me under the weight of a twenty-two page comic book.

He’s got a knack for that, what with The Sheriff of Babylon and The Vision. But this–this is Batman. It’s different. The expectations are different. The investment is different.

Well, I got my two hundred and ninety-nine pennies worth with the first five pages, during which King delivers a dynamic duo of harrowing and hilarious as Alfred–in full Batman regalia–does what he can do to stall for time, to keep Gotham–the hero-come-Pirated villain who wants to destroy the city that inspired his name–occupied until Batman can do what he can do to get to ground zero. You know how Al rolls: he crashes the Batmobile into Gotham and then confronts him like Sugar-Substitute Ray Leonard, and high-capes it outta there once Batman lets him know he’s arrived on scene.

Too effing much!

Important to the sequence as a whole is Alfred’s sentimental soliloquy, in which the brave-ass butler recalls promising Thomas Wayne that he’d care for Bruce if the need arose–and that it’d be “more a pleasure than a chore” because of how simple life would be for the boy. Powerful stuff, Alfred’s fulfilling that promise in this instance: standing up for Bruce the man–the Batman.

Felt that.

Turned the page.

Felt the Batboot and soon the “BDDOOOM”; felt the plane and then the Justice Out-of-Their-League.

Felt the futility of it all.

Felt the fragility of Duke and Claire. Felt the damsel’s distress as she pulled back the curtain to reveal Gotham as god with a short fuse; felt her find the courage to be the hero–the courage to do what she can do–knowing full well she’d lose for winning.

Felt funny as I tried to figure out whether or not Batman ordered Gotham’s murder–whether or not I wanted him to have ordered Gotham’s murder: “Fine. Fine. Do it, then. Kill Gotham.”

Reread it over and over again.

Felt funnier each time.

Felt this before, for sure: a slice Of Mice and Men.

Sounded a hell of a lot like George’s “Gonna do it soon.”

Ended the same way.

Wow.

I felt that.

Head. Gut. Heart.

A heaviness.

That is what Tom King can do–and, man, I can’t wait for him to do it again.

Four days in the hot-spot money pit that is Montauk have me hoping I’m not going to miss some of this week’s big books. With apologies to Van Halen:

Ain’t Montaukin’ ’bout love

Vacay will keep me from the store

Ain’t Montaukin’ ’bout love

Cash-only shopping–I’m poor, yeah, I’m poor!

Doesn’t mean I won’t get out to Android’s to pick up these books, some semi-good lookin’ and some–mostly from the increasingly impressive Avatar Press–downright I&N Demand.

Harrow County #4 (Dark Horse)

Rebels #5 (Dark Horse)

String Divers #1 (IDW)

The Beauty #1 (Image)

The Fade Out #8 (Image)

Injection #4 (Image)

Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl #1 (Image): Just I&N and I&N Demand The team of Gillen, McKelvie, and Wilson–I think they’re OK. (OK: more than OK, really. OK?) If you don’t give them proper credit, you better just walk away–or I’ll slap you upside the head with a copy–I’ll make you pick your own copy, too; there’s a switch!–of The Wicked + The Divine to set your damn head straight. Oh, baby: I’m mad–on a roll, right? And to think: I missed the original Phonogram series; so I’m coming to this kinda like a virgin, no?

Phonogram: The Immaterial Girl #1

Starve #3 (Image): I&N Demand Through two: Starve is full of bold, assertive notes–it’s a massive success! When Gavin–Starve‘s Top Chef–tells Sheldon, “I’m going to show you my city,” I hear Brian Wood himself, who’s so very good at cooking up deliciously diverse worlds with depth of flavor; and his art team of Danijel Zezelj and Dave Stewart (a 2015 Innie nominee for Best Colorist) are the perfect sous chefs, plating–er, paneling–with brash black lines and shadows amplified by alternating–and often blended for a striking contrast–warm and cool tones. Hungry for more? I sure am!

Starve #3

Velvet #11 (Image)

18 Days #2 (Graphic India)

Americatown #1 (BOOM!)

Bloodshot: Reborn #5 (Valiant)

Crossed +100 #7 (Avatar) I&N Demand Alan Moore’s set the stage for Si Spurrier with a sick six issue arc that relied on obsessively intricate world building and long-fuse storytelling; but, damn, did it explode in the end. What an effing payoff! Man, Moore didn’t have to cross the Crossed line to be affective–he just went and redrew the brown out of it. Now, Spurrier’s no stranger to Crossed. In this case, however, he’s working off of Moore’s notes, which puts him in an odd position: he’s sort of a filter, right? One that might miss the mark tone-wise; hell, he might languish a bit with the oft-awkward language Moore’s crafted. It’s a risky proposition, for sure. Spurrier–the winner of the 2014 Innie Award for Best Writer–is pretty damn great, but he’s not Moore. Here’s hoping that he’s not much less, either.

Crossed +100 #7

Death Sentence: London #3 (Titan)

Mercury Heat #2 (Avatar)

Providence #3 (Avatar): I&N Demand Patient, potent: Providence is only two issues in, but Moore’s in deep–basement deep–and we’re right there with him. His commitment to the book is palpable, and he demands one from us; he demands our full attention–and Cthulhu knows he’s going to take advantage of it!

Providence #3

Über #27 (Avatar): I&N Demand Kieron Gillen’s delivered some strong issues along the way, but none as powerful as #26. Leah’s deployment was “everything [I] could have hoped for”–and more. Sure, the German Battleships may have gotten the best of the Brits in this, “the largest enhanced confrontation on the Western Front,” but I was emotionally destroyed by the relationship between HMHs Churchill and Dunkirk. Goddammit, Gillen’s killin’ it!

What does ‘Innies’ stand for? Well, other than an attempt at shameless self-branding, it stands for ‘independence’! Being ‘in’ the know! Part of the ‘in’ crowd! And possessing the non-freaky type of belly button.

Since we don’t have the big-time budget of the fancy-pants Eisners or Harveys, we’ve limited ourselves to five categories. (Sorry Best Translation of Foreign Material for Tweens!)

Keep in mind that these are for comics that were published in 2014.

If the Eisners are the Oscars, and the Harveys are the Golden Globes, then the Innies are the Independent Spirits–or at least the People’s Choice Awards!

Summer is in full swing! As you lather up the sunscreen, fill the cooler with your beverage of choice (Ommegang Abbey Ale for me, thanks) and break out your thongs (sandals or otherwise, hey, we don’t judge) we present a list of recent comics that are well worth tracking down for your seaside, margarita-sipping, swimsuit-watching summer reading. Enjoy!

Top 5 Books of March

5. Giant Days #1 (BOOM!): OK, so, about 25 years or so ago, I made my way to The Pennsylvania State University, University Park campus; got settled in on the 4th floor of Pinchot Hall, a 10-storey sausage factory; cycled through a few roommates–smokers, snorers, and psychopaths–during my two years on campus; fell in with a group of dorks who’d be my best buds for four blurry years; and all together, as fun as I think it was–as I remember it was–it was nothing like John Allison and Lissa Treiman’s irrepressibly jocular Giant Days #1. Maybe that’s why I loved it so much. Co-ed Musketeers–Daisy, Esther, and Susan–are the hyperbolically dramatic center of this university; and hilarity revolves around them in effortless ellipses, much to our benefit. So good that I can confidently quote McGraw, the mustachioed hate interest, as I consider what the future holds for Giant Days and, fearing a sophomore slump, threaten the creators of this tasty treat: “Nothing you can do can spoil gravy for me.” (SC)

Giant Days #1

4. Autumnlands #5 (Image): Fantasy books are all about world-building. No comic in recent memory has presented a realm so fully realized as Autumnlands. Credit goes equally to writer Kurt Busiek (no stranger to this kind of thing – see Astro City) and artist Benjamin Dewey, whose lush style seems to belong to another era (it doesn’t hurt, of course, that it’s being colored by the omnipresent Jordie Bellaire, who I’m convinced at this point must be some sort of collective of robot artists). Floating cities, magical lore, calcified social strata, layer upon layer intertwine into a cohesive whole. Impressively, one doesn’t hear the awkard, behind-the-scenes clanging of this universe’s construction; rather, it’s as if it has always been there. It is merely our happy fortune to discover it, and get lost in it. Higher praise for a fantasy tale I can scarcely think of. (DM)

The Autumnlands: Tooth & Claw #5

3. Ant-Man #3 (Marvel): I can’t even with this book. It is just too funny. I literally (and I mean that in the literal sense) have to keep putting it down because I’m laughing so hard. Literally! Nick Spencer is a comic (and I mean that in the comic sense) genius. Here’s your blurb: “The hero may be small, but the laughs are BIG!” (DM)

Ant-Man #3

2. Silver Surfer #10 (Marvel): Dan Slott and Mike Allred are producing the definitive run of this classic character. They spent most of the first year bringing the fun, with story after story teeming with imagination and wit. But with the Silver Surfer, the piper must always be payed. They tackle the central pathos of the character head on: how can a being who played a role in the deaths of untold millions ever be redeemed? The story they come up with is so simple, so perfectly elegant, that I almost can’t believe no one’s thought of it before. Everyone knows that superhero stories from the Big Two are ‘never-ending’. That’s a shame, because this issue would serve as the perfect coda not just for this series, but for the journey that Norrin Radd has been on since Fantastic Four #48, all those decades ago. Beautiful. (DM)

Silver Surfer #10

1. Zero #15 (Image): The Jeff Lemire variant queries innocently enough, “What is Zero?” Answers inspired by fourteen issues of Ales Kot’s crazy, crazy calculus: Soldier. Spy. Hero. Killer. Storyteller. Everything. Nothing. Open up the book, open mind, as always, as necessary with this schizophrenic series, ask again: Who is Zero? Answer inspired by page one, panel one: I have no effing idea! <–I borrowed an exclamation point; don’t think it’ll be missed. Kot unexpectedly offers up a figure who’s furiously fingering a typewriter and, in doing so, adds a literary layer, making the book more than Zero. He’s gone meta, forging unforeseen relationships, crafting, out of the story thus far, a psych-session confession and a catharsis-in-progress. This stunning thing with its wild spirit sees Kot exploiting his poetic proclivities: his words build images that build upon artist Ian Bertram’s images and affecting layouts: it’s a conscious stream of Ginsberg and guns, fathers and sons, drugs and drugs–all of it burrowing into the brain like a drunk bullet. Stories don’t get more tragic than William S. Burroughs’, and Kot’s made magic by borrowing it–as if you couldn’t tell.

Zero #15

The Biggest Dis(appointment): Descender #1 (Image)

Descender is the perfect title for this highly anticipated offering from the frustratingly inconsistent Jeff Lemire: the book, which starts off well enough, descends quickly–and dizzyingly so–to robotic schmaltz, lowlighted by the insultingly saccharine introduction of Tim-21, which bored a hole nerve-deep in my otherwise pretty resilient sweet tooth. Anyone know a good dentist? (SC)

Descender #1

Top 5 Books of April

5. the unbeatable Squirrel Girl #4 (Marvel): There’s a long-overdue resurgence taking place in monthly comics that are putting the ‘funny’ back in ‘funny books’. We’ve been trumpeting the aforementioned Ant-Man for a while now; add to that the likes of God Hates Astronauts, Kaptara, and East of West (ok, maybe not that last one). Enter: Squirrel Girl. Ryan North (fresh of his excellent, award-winning run on Adventure Time) and artist Erica Henderson have already established a quirky charmer through three issues. Well the fourth installment is, simply put, the funniest single comic I’ve read all year. Most books are lucky to get a chuckle; this one had me laughing out loud five times before I was even that many number of pages in (I’m laughing now, just remembering them). Or maybe I should just put it this way: Squirrel Girl Vs. Galactus. Nuts Said. (DM)

the unbeatable Squirrel Girl #4

4. Mayday #1 (Black Mask): Curt Pires pops for real with this frenetic filet o’ film–one that drops some noms de cinéma (Kaufman, Lynch, and Bay) and goes to effing guerre with them. Oh, yeah, man: it’s a wild ride that reads like a regiment of lines on a mirror meant to be snorted with the eyes and sorted out with a muddied mind. Re: minds: Pires, paired with the more than competent Chris Peterson, sells a story that, in terms of comics, is “sort of like” Matt Fraction channeled through Ales Kot with Tyler Jenkins and Michael Walsh trying to one-up one another from one panel to the next. Mayday #1 will leave you questioning your life choices–especially if most of them have sucked. But you will not question your choice to pick it up–even if it is “just one big blur”; nor will you question whether or not you should pick up #2. I mean, Kleio and Terrence have “just murdered two dudes.” You totally don’t want them to come after you. (SC)

Mayday #1

3. War Stories #8 (Avatar): Sounds like a given: Part 2 of “The Last German Winter” hits the mark with this icy mid-arc march through moral relativism; but let’s be honest: there’s nothing easy–nothing safe–about it. I mean, who can take a Nazi, humanize his ass, then make you wonder all along when hell will come to pass? Only Garth Ennis can. Only Garth Ennis can. (No, you’re not imagining things: go back and hum the tune as you read–heck, sing it out loud, you Sammy wannabe!) He crafts a German hero–Gerhard the Gallant–who, considering the situation, is easy to root for; but we know better, don’t we? Don’t we? Just in case, Ennis reminds us, elbows us to make sure we’re paying attention; oh, but then he nudges us–so vulnerable to his charms–right back to where he wants us–seeing the man, not seeing the monster–thanks mostly to his narrative voice, the vulnerable Rachel Kohler, and to the portrayal of the even more monstrous Russians, their evil punctuated by an horrific splash from Tomas Aira. The execution is near Nabokovian! (No, you’re not imagining things: go back and Hum.) Now that, dear reader, is a war story! (SC)

War Stories #8

2. Chilling Adventures ofSabrina #2 (Archie Horror): Was a long time coming–so long that Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa offered up an apology to kick off the letter page!–but this second issue of Sabrina, which introduces with verve the vengeful and irredeemably evil Madam Satan, was well worth the wait. The aforementioned writer–who not only sets a scene, he sets it on fire with his precise imagery–and artist Robert Hack, whose retro style is equal parts pillowy soft and boldly bloody, own the tone of this witches’ brew, which is bubbling over with literary allusions. It’s campy; it’s creepy; it’s killer, kids! (SC)

Sabrina #2

1. Silver Surfer #11 (Marvel): Dan Slott and Mike Allred follow up the powerhouse of issue 10 with a comic that is as formalistically daring as it is emotionally satisfying. Surfer and Co. are trapped in a time loop and the question becomes not only whether they’ll escape, but whether they’ll even realize it at all. A graphic illustration of Free Will versus Determinism, a metaphor for the repetitive cycle of our everyday experience, a tale of love, forgiveness and redemption; this issue delivers all three in a thrilling marriage of form and content. I maintain that issue 10 would have provided an excellent ending to this wonderful series. But I’m glad it didn’t. (DM)

Silver Surfer #11

Top 5 Books of May

5. Zero #16(Image): Collective unconscious, the inevitability of change, the destiny of DNA, the life sentence that is guilt–Zero‘s certainly much more than its title insists. It’s a proving ground, of sorts; it’s Ales Kot’s firing range of ideas: it’s rhyme-free reason; it’s a game of William Tell: Kot himself is the tortured William S. Burroughs, and we’re the trusting Joan Burroughs, with an apple of expectations balanced precariously on our head. Too. Tempting. BANG! Somehow this experimental spy story became an experiment in layers deep meta-fiction; and, despite the jarring shift, the result is nothing short of spore-born brilliance. Wherever this crazy thing ends up, rest assured, Ales Kot will not fail us–but he’ll sure as hell phallus, as evidenced by Tom Muller and Stathis Tsemberlidis’s cocky cover, which, in turn, is further proof of an air of youthful arrogance in Kot’s work, especially here in Zero. I’m more than happy to breathe it in for as long as it lasts. (SC)

Zero #16

4. Afterlife with Archie #8 (Archie Horror): Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa and Francesco Francavilla continue to add to their modern horror mash-up by seamlessly incorporating elements that you didn’t even know you wanted; everything from The Shining to The Crucible, even A Christmas Carol. The result is rich tapestry that continues to add texture to the story, a mix that acknowledges the high-points in the history of horror through the unlikeliest of lenses. (DM)

Afterlife With Archie #8

3. Mind MGMT #33 (Image): The ultimate showdown’s coming, but there’s no sign of a slowdown–even as Matt Kindt slows things down to foster a touching family reunion, one that frames Team Meru’s Soldiers of Fortune Cookies and their receiving and executing–with stunning efficiency–their munching–er, marching orders. The decidedly deliberate issue ends with a Dalicious splash that promises a wild time. With the end of the series so near, I’m excited, I’m anxious; but, no, Pipe Kid, I’m not ready–and I’m as not ready as I’m ever going to be. (SC)

Mind MGMT #33

2. Providence #1 (Avatar): Avatar’s publicity department has been describing this new series by Alan Moore as “The Watchmen of horror”. But the story from Moore’s oeuvre that it more readily calls to mind is From Hell (an even more impressive achievement to this reviewer’s mind). FH brilliantly examined the underlying brutality of patriarchal hegemony through the lens of Victorian England, using the Whitechapel murders as a vehicle. Providence promises to delve into the repressed corners of American society of the past century using the fiction of H.P. Lovecraft (a passion of Moore’s for some time now) as a framework. Moore explores the Jungian implications of Lovecraft’s mythos (underlying realities masked by our limited human perception) by using them as a metaphor for aspects of the American experience that needed to remain hidden, given the times (in this case, “the love that dare not speak its name”). Yes, there is much to unpack here. Yet for all that, this first issue is a master’s class in restrained, subtle storytelling. The deliberate pacing, the seemingly minor details that gain importance as the issue progresses, the symmetry of the opening and closing segments; Moore’s assured control of the material, when he’s on, has never been matched by another comic book writer. To say nothing of the insane amount of research that is woven throughout. Which brings us to the art. Here another comparison to FH is apt: Eddie Campbell’s nonpareil art in that tome had a scratchy looseness, a sketchy immediacy that pulled the modern reader with its irrepressible energy, despite the period setting. Here, Jacen Burrows takes the opposite approach: meticulously rendered, exhaustive research evident in every carefully placed line. The effect is polished, subdued and certainly visually impressive, but with a formal stiffness akin to watching an episode of Downton Abbey. And yet this is reflective of Moore’s otherworldly precision. Ultimately, the hyperbole of comparing this new series to the well-known Watchmen is needless. This first issue promises an epic Alan Moore tale to match or exceed, in scope, ambition and execution, anything he’s previously produced. That alone should suffice. (DM)

Providence #1

1. Material #1 (Image): With Material, Ales Kot’s has found his forum, the perfect space for him to keep pace with the injustices of the world. No matter how desperate or disparate, they have a home here; and God knows he’ll never want for material as long as he never casts off the lenses–the perspective-altering critical approaches to analyzing, well, everything so relied upon by campus comrades, the arrogant academicians and their lecture-hall spawn–that help him to see the Ugly Spirit* in, well, everything. Despite the pessimism that pervades the four narratives, which may or may not Crash into each other at some point, what Kot’s come up with–in tandem with the ironically-named Will Tempest–is beautiful. He asserts that there’s hope in moments, in connections, and what better way to convey that point than with a comic book! Holding its pages open is like holding hands with Kot himself as he leads the march toward enlightenment–toward Utopia. And even if that march is born of naÏveté, it’s fueled by honesty, by brashness; and in the context of this comic, it’s something I want to follow.

*See Zero to see Burroughs to see that Kot’s got the Spirit–yes he does! (SC)

Material #1

Biggest Dis(appointment)(April/May): Convergence/Secret Wars (DC/Marvel) – A bunch of heroes and villains from various alternate universes battle it out on a patchwork planet in a Secret Crisis of Ultimate Infinite blahblahblah. Yes, I’ve just described the plot of both summer blockbuster crossovers from the Big Two. In the cynical cycle of endless Events, this has to be a new low. I don’t know who’s guiltier: the company that seemingly pilfered the other’s concept, or the company that came up with such an awful idea to begin with. (DM)

Welcome to the 34th edition of I&N’s Top Ten Comics of the Year! Why, it seems like just yesterday we were bestowing our top honor to a little known comic from across the pond titled Warrior #1 (1982), solely for its inclusion of the work of a budding, young upstart named Alan Moore (who subsequently sent us a scroll with a nigh-illegible incantation, which was either a note of thanks or a curse from the Necronomicon; we could never tell which). While we dug his nascent V for Vendetta, it was his writing on Marvelman that enthralled. Happily, after a long absence, the original stories are finally being reprinted by Marvel Comics of all places (now re-titled Miracleman, due to the book’s long and tortured publishing history in which Marvel itself played an ignominious part). Viewed through the lens of history, this groundbreaking work has often been seen as Moore’s warm-up to his seminal, ubiquitous Watchmen. Visiting these stories afresh, however, it quickly becomes apparent that Moore’s initial go at “realistic” superheroes is as poetic, disquieting and masterful as his better-known oeuvre. Indeed, it’s a good thing we already recognized Marvelman’s greatness. Otherwise, despite Marvel’s awkward presentation (half of each issue is filler? and polybagged for no discernible reason?) these brilliant, essential tales would likely top our list again.

Speaking of which!

10. TheTwilight Zone (Dynamite):

This is the dimension of J. Michael Straczynski’s imagination. It is an area which we call the #10 book of 2014. Returning to a creative comfort zone, J.M.S. has penned a series of meticulously plotted arcs that could easily stand as episodes of the iconic television show, each issue filled with tight twists, palpable fear, and ethical dilemmas that try and crush the souls of men and women alike. Complementing Straczynski’s script is the gorgeous work of artist Guiu Vilanova, who draws out the fateful schemes in a realistic manner, making the unreal scenarios that much more believable–that much more frightening. So while Straczynski might be going through the motions with some of his other titles, here he’s most assuredly in the zone. We, unlike his protagonists, are the luckier for it; and Rod Serling’s somewhere out there in the timeless fifth dimension smiling, smoking–and waiting for the next issue of The Twilight Zone to hit the shelves. Sadly, Straczynski and Vilanova’s terrific turn on this moralistic monster of a comic has but one issue left! Ah, yet another cruel twist…(SC)

The Twilight Zone #4

9. Wild’s End (BOOM!):

At this point, the mash-up is a long accepted (if not well-worn) artistic trope throughout all types of media. Indeed the initial collaboration between creators Dan Abnett and I.N.J. Culbard yielded The New Deadwardians, a ripping Victorian detective story simply teeming with zombies and vampires wot, wot! Wild’s End’s mix of The Wind in the Willows and TheWar of the Worlds may seem an unlikely entry into the burgeoning genre at first (and ill-advised besides, given Alan Moore’s own memorable War of the Worlds mash-up in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen). But in the end, what matters, as it always has, is the telling. Abnett fully realizes the quaint comforts of his cozy anthropomorphized village, before threatening to tear it to shreds. Culbard’s rendering is uncluttered and timeless, effortlessly evoking both 19th century fairy tales and 1950’s sci-fi cinema. Most mash-ups hold their disparate elements in stark relief. The magic of this one is that it seems utterly seamless, as though these genres had been married from the start. The result is deceptively simple and completely enchanting. (DM)

Wild’s End #3

8. Moon Knight (Marvel):

It’s an I&N first! That’s right: we’re celebrating a book that has had two different creative teams–over the course of the title’s first ten issues, no less! Yeah, that’s usually a bad sign. Not here, though: the launch team of Warren Ellis and Declan Shalvey rocketed this latest incarnation of the second-string, schizophrenic servant of Khonshu into lunar orbit. In a series of connected one-offs, Ellis finds his–and Marc Spector’s–voice while favoring frugality: displaying his mastery of the craft–and enough confidence to cast a long shadow over some of his long-winded contemporaries–he wisely withdraws his words from the massive moments, not because they are unnecessary, but to allow Shalvey to shine like the fullest of moons–and shine he does, showcasing loudly his silent storytelling through striking sequences issue after issue. Now, the news that this team was only on board for a sixer didn’t come as a surprise, but it was disappointing, especially considering what the pair had accomplished in so short a time. The disappointment wouldn’t last long, however: the new team–Brian Wood and Greg Smallwood–came in with a clear plan and executed it with a vengeance. They were clearly not intimidated by the work before them, and their fearlessness helped them to hit the Marc–changing the titular character to suit this new phase–one that so far reads not unlike an episode–or an arc–of The Twilight Zone. Man, I only wish they’d gibbous more than one more issue! (See: sticking to the motif: it’s on to a newer phase–and on to creative team number three–with #13.) What they–both teams–have given us, however, has been superior–and vital–superhero fare; what they’ve given us is a white knight to lead us out of the dark. (SC)

Moon Knight #1

7. Zero (Image):

Certainly the most frustrating title on our list, Ales Kot’s nihilistic super-spy thriller could range from the poetically sublime one issue to incoherent violence the next. At different points this year we named it both Book of the Month and Biggest Dis(appointment) – one thing you could never call this book was ‘predictable’. But at its best, this title (drawn by an impressive roster of rotating artists) was at once lyrically beautiful and viscerally harrowing, loosely tethered, as it was, to real life arenas of violence. This was never more true than in issue #9, a tale (an origin story it turns out) set in the Bosnian War that encompassed deceit and innocence, hope and despair, and a tragic ultimatum that yielded new life in the face of brutal murder. Told in a spare 22 pages, it was possibly the best single comic we read all year. Holding up a mirror to the darkness of recent history, and shining a light upon it, however frail, not only to remember, but also to try to render something beautiful out of it, may well be a fruitless exercise. It may also be art. (DM)

Zero #10

6. Afterlife with Archie (Archie):

A no-brainer, really–well, only because said brains have been exuberantly consumed by the Jughead-led undead of Riverdale. Maestro Roberto Aguirre Sacasa and the perfectly frightening Franceso Francavilla have continued their brazen exploration into the heart of nostalgia by wearing the mask of familiarity while delivering something wholly unexpected–something undeniably challenging and zombeautiful. And, of course, there’s issue #4–our #2 book of March and one of the best single issues of the year–which, doggone it, made me cry. Real tears. See: as it turns, what happens to Vegas stays with you for a long, long time–like that heartbreaking song that’s so perfectly composed that you get lost in the shadow of every sorrowful note–and hope to never be found again. Sure, this isn’t the afterlife that they pitched in Sunday school, but if I’m being honest–and maybe a little bit blasphemous–I like this one a hell of a lot more. (SC)

Afterlife With Archie #4

5. The Massive (Dark Horse):

Environmental degradation and societal collapse have always been the subtext in Brian Wood’s magisterial, globe-trotting mystery. Well, in its unsparing final act, (with appropriately stark visuals by Garry Brown and Jordie Bellaire) subtext became text as the Ahab-like search for a missing vessel, which previously drove the narrative, was transformed into Judgement Day, with all the biblical proportion that implies. One always suspected that Wood would get around to driving his point home; that he did so with such force contrasted sharply with earlier issues, which were told with a subtlety that sometimes veered toward the opaque. The apocalyptic ending, with its uneasy mix of hope and misanthropy, served as a case study for a failed species: humanity. The series, in the end, is an impassioned, ecological cri de guerre, but one that is packed in a masterpiece of storytelling. (DM)

The Massive #24

4. Silver Surfer (Marvel):

Of the so-called “Big Two” in 2014, Marvel seemed to have the more cohesive game plan. Certainly, they thrived on the expected, event-driven, media-tie-in franchise titles. But they balanced the relentless grinding of the hype machine with some surprisingly refreshing takes on some of their lesser known characters; those B and C – listers who exist at a remove from the shenanigans of the their bread-and-butter superstars. That remove and relative obscurity allowed for a certain amount of freedom. Marvel, to their credit, brought in some top-tier talent and gave them a free hand with these characters (see Moon Knight, above). Call them the Outliers, for their success seems to be in inverse proportion to their proximity to the main goings on of the Marvel U. (Even everyone’s darling, Ms. Marvel, began to flag once she was saddled with Wolverine guest-appearances and increasing ties to Marvel’s ongoing Inhumanity storyline). What better place then for Silver Surfer to be, than on the fringes of the known universe? Dan Slott’s inspired choice of setting not only wisely removed him from the chess board, so to speak, it gives wunderkind artist Mike Allred the largest possible canvas in which to unleash imagination. Aliens, other dimensions, planet casinos; Allred brings the F-U-N to any project he’s involved in. As I’ve said before, he seems to inspire his collaborators to elevate their game, and Slott has proven up to the challenge. Together they’ve concocted the kind of absurdly sublime cosmic romp one would be hard-pressed to find anywhere this side of Terry Pratchett. And in Dawn Greenwood, small-town girl from Anchor Bay, Mass., they created the most winning new Marvel character of the year (the aforementioned Ms. Marvel notwithstanding). Finally, in pairing the Man from Beyond the Stars with the Girl Next Door, they also have the makings of the most adorable budding romance in comics. Truly they’ve producing the best monthly super-hero book on the stands. Let’s hope it survives Marvel’s Next Big Thing. (DM)

Silver Surfer #7

3. Dry Spell (Action Labs/Danger Zone):

Ken Krekeler’s Dry Spell is a book that kicks off with a bold promise–one in the form an artfully chosen quotation from the incomparable Alan Moore. In fact, I bought the book because I figured anyone ballsy enough to borrow so brazenly from the best must have something to say. Turns out that Krekeler didn’t have something to say after all–he had something to shout! Hey, Ken: I hear you. Loud and clear. OK, so, it took re-releasing your book (originally published through Krekeler’s own Kinetic Press in 2011) through a more established outfit like Action Labs to finally reach me; but thank goodness for that–for the person who knew this book needed to reach me and that it could only reach me this way; otherwise, I would’ve been deprived of this superb take on the superhero genre–a canvas filled with small voices and big moments, crazy twists and smart page-turns–in total, a “Howl” for the villain in us all. Krekeler–a previously unknown quantity–delivers on his book’s bold promise by taking advantage of the medium, particularly with his inventive dialogue and his sympathetic color palette; and he serves up a finale–the definitive finale–a perfect final issue that hits massive notes–the biggest struck by the tsunami of splash pages, the last–reminiscent of Rocky and Apollo (coincidence?) throwing punches that never quite connect at the end of Rocky III–declaring the Black Baron’s personal dry spell officially over. Good to know that this superior series–and best mini of 2014–isn’t over: the inside back cover of #4 makes another bold promise–one that Krekeler better keep, if he knows what’s good for him–and for us: Dry Spell 2 is coming soon. Yeah, not soon enough. (SC)

Dry Spell #4

2. Lazarus (Image):

What would you get if 1984 was directed by Francis Ford Coppola from a screenplay written by Noam Chomsky? The answer might look a lot like Lazarus. Alternating between a macro view of a near-future worldwide economic catastrophe and a microcosm of the inner-workings of one of the powerful Families who rose to power because of it, Lazarus, like most great socially-minded science fiction, feels at once expansive and suffocating. Creators Greg Rucka and Michael Lark have hit that sweet spot of dystopian dread, where the reader is exhilarated by the sheer breadth of this brave new world, even as its does its best to debase, dehumanize and stamp out any sign of resistance from its inhabitants. No mere escapism this; its true power comes from the realization that the seeds of the future nightmare it describes are currently being planted all around us, if only we would notice. Lazarus is a visionary sci-fi masterpiece for the early 21st century. (DM)

Lazarus #9

1. Mind MGMT (Dark Horse):

There was no denying Matt Kindt’s kinetic masterpiece this time around. Its ascension to the top spot of our annual Top Ten was as inevitable as truth and death: #3 (2012), #2 (2013), and now #1, the spot it so richly deserves for its clever cover homages (re: Rousseau [#18] and Magritte [#22]) and its ebullient barrages of images and words, which create a reading-cum-sensory experience even more unique than unique to the comic book genre. The year flew by in a fury of frantic page turns: from Meru’s failed recruitment of Ella the Animal Kid, an inventive and intense story inspired by Kindt’s own daughter and one of our favorite single issues of the year; to the illusory introduction of the Magician; to the frustratingly thoughtful silent issue, which actually earned the ignominious title of Biggest Dis(appointment) for the month of April; to Kindt’s pushing the petal-to-the-metal to reach the speed of heartbreak, the result of the death of a major character; to the father of clichéd revelations that manages to be fresh and affecting; and ultimately, to a showdown that’s all show up, leaving us to wait a little while longer for the final throw down between Meru and the Eraser. Kindt drives the narrative as only he can with his unexpected layouts and whitewater watercolors. His Field Guide/Voice of God–voice of Meru!–marginalia continue to draw more into the story, allowing us to draw more out–more out of the relative reality of the universe he’s created; more out of the fiction that empowers Meru in climactic moments; more out of the memories that are either reality or fiction–or both. There’s unquestionably more here in Mind MGMT than in any book on the shelf, which makes this our easy pick for the #1 book of 2014. (SC)

Publisher of the Year:This was the year that Image Comics doubled-down on its core strategy: attracting top-tier talent from throughout the industry and parlaying their success to create a space where lesser-known creators can play as well. The result was an avalanche of diversity that exemplified the boundless range of the medium (just check out how many Image titles made our Honorable Mentions, not to mention the two on our Top Ten). Were they all winners? Of course not. But each title was allowed to be its own idiosyncratic, little thing. To wit: Madame Frankenstein. Perhaps not one of the year’s best, Jamie S. Rich’s odd melange of Shelly’s classic horror story, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s milieu, Pygmalion‘s mores (stretched to their logical conclusion) and even Kafka-esque fatalism at the end, was unlike anything else on the stands, possibly ever. Furthermore, Megan Levens tackled such complex, macabre subject matter with an art style that was a cartoony blend of Jeff Smith and Ted Naifeh; in other words something one is more accustomed to seeing in a YA book. As a visual approach, it stretched the overall reading experience almost to the point of incongruity. Was Madame Frankenstein a complete success? I’m still not sure. But it sure was fascinating watching the creators try. And for giving such singular titles like this one a place to exist, I’m grateful to Image Comics. (DM)